Veteran climber Dave Hahn experienced the Nepal earthquake up close—and blogged about it

Watch Video:

Slideshow: Before and after the Nepal earthquake

By Dave Hahn and Rebecca Rudell

“That day,”says Dave Hahn
(BA ’84), “planet Earth proved who was
boss—shaking Chomolungma as if she were built from
Jell-O.” Chomolungma is the Tibetan name for Mount Everest;
it means Mother Goddess of the Earth. On the day Hahn is referring
to—April 25, 2015—a massive earthquake struck
Nepal.

A little before noon, Hahn and some of his fellow climbers had
just returned to Camp One after a short acclimatization hike up the
mountain. Heavy snow and whiteouts preceded the first quake, which
registered a magnitude 7.8 and sent tons of rock and debris falling
down the mountain. Several more aftershocks were felt over the next
few days. While Hahn’s team all survived unscathed, many
others—particularly at Base Camp, which sits in a valley
surrounded by Himalayan peaks—were not so lucky.

Hahn is one of the most successful high-altitude climbing guides
in history and is the only non-Sherpa climber to have reached
Everest’s summit a record 15 times. He is also a professional
guide, an EMT who has rescued numerous climbers in terrifying
situations, and a prolific blogger who shares his thrilling
experiences with the world.

But this year’s disaster had a profound effect on him.
“Mount Everest has dished out all I can personally stomach of
failure, heartache and death in recent years, and I’m not
positive I’ll attempt it again,” he says. “But
that decision can wait a little, just now.”

Hahn is certainly not leaving the field he has devoted his life
to since the early ’80s; in fact, two months after returning
from Everest, he was leading a team up Denali (formerly Mount
McKinley) in Alaska.

The following entries are excerpts from the blog Hahn kept from the day of the Nepal earthquake to his last night in Kathmandu:

Click to see Hahn's Trek to Safety

April 25, 2015

This morning, we completed a good circuit, climbing up to 21,300
feet to Advance Base Camp and back to Camp One, arriving about
11:30 this morning. Shortly after that, at about noon, there was a
major earthquake that resulted in avalanches off all the mountains
around us. We got dusted, but here at Camp One we’re just
fine. We don’t have the ability to travel right
now—good mountaineering sense dictates that we stay put and
ride this storm out. We are self-sufficient up here and our concern
is with our friends at Base Camp. We’re hearing the strenuous
efforts that our Sherpa team and Mark Tucker [Hahn’s Base
Camp manager] are going through down there trying to help with
the injured and those who haven’t fared so well. We’ll
try to be in touch. We’re obviously in a situation where we
won’t have great communication. It’s likely that the
earthquake destroyed any cell service around the Base Camp
area.

April 26, 2015

This was a day of waiting and watching for us. The weather
improved a little bit; this morning it was sunny and clear. A
couple of courageous helicopter pilots made use of that time flying
out sick and hurt people from Camp Two to Camp One. But the big
work they did was trip after trip flying casualties out from Base
Camp.

There was a massive aftershock this afternoon at about 1 p.m.
local time. It seemed almost as powerful as yesterday’s
quake. And now we’re looking to helicopter out in the next
day or two to get down to Base Camp. If it keeps on snowing as it
did this afternoon, it will make flying impossible.

April 27, 2015

[At this point, it has been decided that Hahn’s team
and the roughly 180 other climbers on the mountain—unable to
traverse the badly damaged route through the Khumbu
Icefall—will be taken to Base Camp by helicopter.]

At Camp One, we were up before dawn, boiling cups of instant
coffee and hurriedly packing.

It wasn’t going to be an ideal scenario, by any means. It
seemed unlikely that 90-plus heli landings and takeoffs could be
accomplished without chaos or catastrophe. But sure enough, the
first B3 powered on in at 6 a.m. and the great Everest Air Show
began.

A fear of the team leaders was a helicopter mob scene, à
la Saigon ’75, but we’d arrayed our helipads in a way
that didn’t allow for mobbing, and everybody seemed to
understand the need for superior social skills on this
day.

[Later that day, after landing safely at Base Camp]

We were put down at the epicenter of a disaster and we could
barely believe our eyes. Whatever relief each of us felt at being
off the mountain was quickly replaced with sadness and awe at the
evidence of destructive power all around us.

Hearing on the radio about the quake-triggered avalanche that
blasted Base Camp did nothing to prepare us for experiencing the
aftermath firsthand. It was as if an enormous bomb had
detonated.

When we reached our own greatly altered camp and heard a few
stories from neighbors, we finally understood Mark Tucker’s
heroism of the last few days, helping to stabilize and transport
dozens upon dozens of seriously injured, bloody and broken
people.

He and our Sherpa team had gone immediately to help others, even
though their own camp was largely destroyed. By now, we’re
not even mildly surprised to learn that they somehow found time and
energy to rebuild camp for our arrival.

Our “ordeal” seems trivial by comparison. We had to
stay a bit longer in a beautiful and legendary hanging valley and
deal with a bit of uncertainty. Now back down to earth, we
understand just how lucky we’ve been and we are sad beyond
words to learn how unlucky others have been.

“We were put down at the epicenter of a disaster and we could barely believe our eyes. Whatever relief each of us felt at being off the mountain was quickly replaced with sadness and awe at the evidence of destructive power all around us.”

April 28, 2015

We’ve come to the inescapable conclusion that an Everest
summit for 2015 is out of reach for our team. Besides the rather
obvious and glaring philosophical difficulties of pursuing a
recreational venture in the midst of a national disaster, there are
on-the-ground mountaineering realities that will not permit us to
look upward again.

We’ll put our efforts into an organized and safe retreat
from the mountain. Nobody harbors illusions that travel in this
stricken and damaged country will be simple, but we’ll head
for home now in any case.

April 29, 2015

Our expedition is rapidly winding down. Everest Base Camp is
becoming empty of foreign climbers. Three of our team—HP, Hao
and Hans—were able to catch a heli down toward Lukla this
morning. The rest of us have spent the day packing, sheltering from
snow showers and reflecting on the surreal situation and
surroundings.

We’ve each taken walks out to icy cyber, where the cell
service almost works, and been stunned by the amount of heavy camp
gear—tents, barrels, tables, boots, helmets,
etc.—strewn hundreds of meters from Base Camp. These sad
items testify to the force of the blast that hit Base, fully
obliterating the camps along the medial moraine [a ridge of soil
and rock formed by glacial drift]. Mark Tucker estimated
that the blast was perhaps 150 mph. We’re all still a bit
jumpy, although there hasn’t been a recognizable aftershock
in a day or two.

We’ll start walking out of this place and down toward
an easier and safer world tomorrow. But plenty of uncertainty still
lies ahead.

April 30, 2015

[Hahn and six members of his group begin a three-day trek
toward Lukla, from where they can fly to Kathmandu and then
home.]

This morning, we enjoyed a little sunshine for a change, which
made it easier to put final touches on our packing. By 10 a.m., we
were on the trail, which was very different than what we’d
become accustomed to … no trekkers, no porters, no traffic.
Of course, the reason is sobering—nobody has put the dire
national situation out of their minds—but the value of a day
spent walking peaceful trails through beautiful mountains
can’t be overstated. We stopped in both Gorak Shep and
Lobuche without seeing too much damage from the quake, but things
in Pheriche are obviously worse. Many of what had seemed to be the
more substantial structures in town are badly damaged.

May 1, 2015

Thankfully, it was another sparkling-sun-and-blue-sky day. We
got out of Pheriche by 8:15 a.m.—and out of the alpine
zone—and down into the land of the living. Helicopters
continued to buzz back and forth overhead.

We took our time, stopping in Pangboche to check on
acquaintances and to pay respects to victims, but then we moved on
across the river to Deboche and up to Thyangboche, which was
abnormally calm and quiet. The classic and grand monastery was
visibly damaged and seemed abandoned for the moment.

We found our way back to our favorite place in Namche: Camp De
Base. Although damage in Namche seems slight, we’ve been
reminded that the earth isn’t through moving yet. There have
been aftershocks that we apparently haven’t noticed in our
tent environments. Here in town, everybody seems much more aware of
them in a place where buildings shake.

We’ll keep our guard up, but we’ll also avail
ourselves of some quality 11,000-foot sleep—the kind we
haven’t experienced in a month.

“People without any form of insurance stood in front of ruined structures, smiling and bidding us ‘Namaste’ as we passed. The ones we knew asked us first if we were all OK before acknowledging that they would need to start over completely.”

May 2, 2015

Another surreal day of spectacular hiking and beautiful mountain
vistas, mixed with up-close and sad recognition for the cost of
lost homes and disrupted lives in the Khumbu Valley. I suppose
it’s surreal because we would never have chosen to be
“tourists” in a disaster area, but here we
are.

Many houses and buildings were untouched, but a significant
number were cracked and damaged beyond reasonable repair. Very few
had collapsed, and we were told that there had been few injuries
and few deaths in these areas. Probably because Sherpas would have
been outside and working hard at midday when the quake
struck.

People without any form of insurance stood in front of ruined
structures, in this fabulously beautiful setting, and smiled and
bid us “Namaste” as we passed. The ones we knew asked
us first if we were all OK before acknowledging that they
themselves would need to start over completely.

May 3, 2015

Rain, thunder and lightning had continued late into the Lukla
night, but we all felt pretty confident that the dawn would bring
perfect flying weather—and it did. We were up at 5 a.m. and
over to the craziness of Lukla International Airport by 6. At
around 7 or so, a twin-engine prop plane came in. The flight was
blissfully uneventful and by 7:30 we were just another batch of
tourists in Kathmandu.

A casual observer could easily go unaware of the tragedy
unfolding in the country around us. Things are quickly returning to
“normal” for those with means in the capital. The hotel
was jam-packed with correspondents, camera crews, diplomats and a
few grubby climbers.

We met a number of our guide friends—some of whom had
ambitious and worthy plans to go out to remote villages to do what
they could to save lives. Others, like ourselves, intended to get
out of the country as soon as possible so as not to require care
and feeding from an already over-stressed society.

[Later that evening]

Back at the hotel, our team assembled for one final evening
together, with a couple of toasts and a fine rooftop dinner. We
weren’t even remotely cold or uncomfortable, we weren’t
in danger, and we had a rising and beautiful full moon to entertain
us. Tomorrow we’ll scatter to ride a number of bigger and
faster aircraft toward our own homes.

We each feel extremely fortunate to have come unscathed through
extraordinary circumstances. To this point, we’ve had the
convenience and satisfaction of placing cash directly into the
hands of those who’ve suffered. From this point onward,
we’ll try to match the generosity of those at home, making
contributions to responsible aid organizations benefiting all
Nepalis.

Hahn’s Summits and Successes

Photo: Michael Brown/Eddie Bauer-First Ascent

275+ summits of Mount Rainier—he served as a guide for
other climbers for the majority of them

21 summits of Denali—these were also guided climbs led by
Hahn

15 summits of Mount Everest—the most for a non-Sherpa
climber

35 summits of the Vinson Massif (the highest point in
Antarctica)—a record

In 1999, he participated in the expedition that discovered and
identified the remains of explorer George Mallory,
who died trying to scale Everest in 1924.

In 2006, he guided a team of professional athletes on an
expedition to ski Mount Everest.

Hahn shot high-altitude video for the PBS “NOVA”
program “Lost on Everest.” He also guided a film
crew into Antarctica’s Ellsworth Mountains that resulted in
the Emmy Award-winning film “Mountain of
Ice.”

He received the Citizen’s Award for Bravery from the
U.S. Department of the Interior for rescuing an injured climber on
Mount Rainier. This rescue was performed following the crash of the
helicopter transporting Hahn to the scene of the original
accident.